Chapter 10
Earth, San Francisco, Kim Family Residence, 2403
B'Elanna slouched against the back of the sofa with an exaggerated groan. "I am exhausted," she announced. "That's the last time I Iet Starfleet talk me into one of these events. Do you know that one of those idiot reporters actually asked me if I would demonstrate how to use a bat'leth?"
"Did you?" Libby asked with some interest.
"No!"
Tom and Harry emerged from the kitchen with drinks in hand. "Here," Tom said, presenting B'Elanna a chilled glass. B'Elanna accepted it but looked at him with a question in her eyes. "Liquid courage. Drives away all the pain of giving interviews."
Libby sat up slightly to accept another glass from Harry, which she then promptly sipped. "Just what I needed." She glanced around the room. "Okay, if no one's going to bring up the Doctor's new girlfriend, I will."
"I think it's serious this time," Harry said. "I don't think she's just another girlfriend."
"He always dates women half his age," B'Elanna pointed out. "What do you think he does to attract them?"
"Sing opera?" Tom teased. B'Elanna laughed. "Remember, he's only thirty-two. He and Elina are practically the same age."
"Hmph," was her reply as she took a drink. Then she clarified, "I don't care who he dates or how old they are. I just want to know how he does it."
"His winning personality," Harry suggested genially. "Which, you know, is a credit to you tweaking his program during his formative years."
"Just call me a matchmaker."
Libby started to say something, but before she could the door opened, and Andrew and Miral entered. "Oh," Miral teased as she surveyed the drinks in their hands, "I see you left the official party to start one of your own."
"Munchkin, you want something?" Tom offered.
She shook her head and dropped onto the sofa beside B'Elanna. "I'm exhausted," she declared. "Do you know how many former crew members and former crew members' kids we had to talk to tonight?"
"Correction: you had to talk to," Andrew noted as he took a seat near his mother. "No one cares about me. They only care about the special baby born during Voyager's homecoming."
Libby reached out to stroke his cheek. "You're just as special. Do I have to remind you about your unusual birth?" There was a knock at the door, and she turned to Harry. "Who could that be at this hour?" She set her drink on the coffee table and went to the door. "Reg! What are you doing here?"
Reg Barclay burst into the living room with more energy than the other six had combined. "After I got home, I was looking through some old things, and I came across this." He pulled an isolinear chip from his pocket. "Harry, your computer?" Harry nodded absently, and Reg put the isolinear chip into the large display at the far end of the room. "After Voyager's return, Starfleet kept mum about the crew for about two weeks…until this interview came over the newsfeeds."
"Reg," Tom asked, "you kept a newsfeed from twenty years ago?"
Reg looked slightly embarrassed. "Well, uh, uh, that was before I was really friends with any of you, and I – I – I kept a s-s-scrapbook of your achievements."
B'Elanna burst into laughter, causing Reg to turn even redder. Even Andrew and Miral snickered.
"Just be glad you didn't tell us that twenty years ago," Harry said, "or you might never have become friends with us."
"I'm sorry, Reg," B'Elanna said, trying to compose herself. "Show the clip."
"All right," he said, trying to recover a little of his pride. "Before the Voyager crew were released from quarantine, there was a lot of speculation about what was going to happen to them, about who they were, and what they had done. Starfleet permitted one – and only one – interview. Everyone in the Federation watched with anticipation, hoping it would answer some questions." He activated the display with a flourish.
"Good evening. I'm Patty Portman, and tonight I have a very special guest. You've heard about their magnificent return to Federation space two weeks ago. After seven years on the far side of the galaxy, they emerged unexpectedly from a Borg transwarp conduit. Since the USS Voyager's homecoming, Starfleet has kept the one hundred forty-person crew under close wraps. Tonight I sit down with Voyager's operations officer, Ensign Harry Kim, to talk about life in the Delta Quadrant and much more."
Crew headshots began popping up as the narrator explained how Voyager had initially disappeared, so Reg advanced the video playback until an image of a younger Harry Kim with raven black hair filled the screen.
"So handsome," Libby cooed.
"Mom, shh," Andrew scolded.
"And what exactly did you think of the Maquis at that point?"
"Well, I was devoted to my duties as a Starfleet officer, and that meant protecting the Federation. I knew the Maquis didn't want to become outlaws, but my job was to stop them."
"Has your opinion of the Maquis changed over the last seven years?"
Harry nodded. "I've learned that they're equally devoted. While I may not support their cause, I admire their commitment to it. Some of my best friends are former Maquis, and they're resourceful and creative. I'm not sure Voyager could have stayed in one piece without them."
"Did you think Voyager was going to get home?"
"I did. I always believed that we would."
"There must have been temptation to give up, to establish a colony somewhere, rather than continuing to fly through uncharted space."
"We were tempted a few times, sure. But Captain Janeway had decided immediately after we got lost that we were going to get home, and she held to that belief every day. It gave the rest of us hope. A lot of us had joined Starfleet to explore the unknown, and on Voyager we had a chance to do that every single day. And we all had families and friends to keep us going. I'd be lying if I didn't admit that we all had times when we wanted to settle down –"
"Especially when you hit Borg space, I'm sure."
"That was rough," Harry agreed. "But we always knew we'd get home. We didn't know when or how. But we knew that one day, we'd make it."
"Tell us about some of the alien species you met. Which one was the most interesting?"
"Well, I'm a little biased, but I'd have to say the Talaxians."
"Skip ahead, Reg," Tom urged. "It's going to be a Neelix tribute."
"Don't you want to see it?" Libby asked him. "I thought you loved him."
"We do," B'Elanna assured her, "but he's a little –" She stopped as a variety of pictures of Neelix began filling the screen, and then an old video clip of Neelix yelling, "Good morning, Voyager! Today on our program…" as he put his face right up to the recording device.
Libby grimaced. "I see what you mean. Reg, skip ahead!"
"…a lot of speculation about whether Voyager should be welcomed home as heroes or treated with suspicion."
"It's understandable," Harry said diplomatically. "We've been gone a long time. We integrated strange technology into the ship, we have two former Borg crew members, a sentient hologram, food and specimens of unknown origins –"
"And you arrived from inside a Borg cube."
"Actually, it was a sphere, but yes. If I were on the Federation Council, I'd probably wait a few weeks for us to 'assimilate' back into society, too."
"Harry, a Borg pun?" Tom shook his head disapprovingly.
"Hey, four Starfleet admirals rehearsed me on that answer for an hour. It wasn't my line."
"Your debriefings officially begin tomorrow. What hope do you have for the outcome?"
"I hope they start on time."
"Do you think Starfleet will banish your Maquis friends? Send them to penal colonies?"
"Look, we've all lived through much worse. I'm sure that no matter what happens, we'll stay strong and support each other."
"Another diplomatic non-answer," B'Elanna noted.
"You heard it first here," Patty Portman said, looking directly at the recording device. "I'm Patty Portman, saying good night –"
Reg paused playback and rejoined his friends around the coffee table.
"I don't understand, Dad," Andrew said. "Why you?"
"It was a brilliant move on Starfleet's part," Reg explained. "The upstanding ensign with the spotless background. It had to be Harry."
"Yeah, plus he's the best looking senior officer," B'Elanna said before taking a long drink. "He's got that baby face."
"What am I, Tarkalean liver pudding?" her husband pouted with equal parts annoyance and amusement.
"And the debriefings?" Miral asked. "How were they?"
"Hell on Earth," Harry answered immediately. He could feel his friends' eyes on him. "Well, not for me. I sailed through. Suffice it to say, there's a reason we haven't told you much about that time."
Debriefings, 2378 – Day One
Since the island had no transporter technology, and since Starfleet wanted to keep them under close watch, a shuttle arrived at 0745 to take the first officers to San Francisco. The sight of it landing in the middle of their secluded tropical playground brought nearly everyone out of their cabins. Those whose names were on the list had been allowed to wear their Voyager uniforms – a concession granted by Starfleet Command, since their debriefings were officially Starfleet business – and they arrived at the shuttle with all of their personal effects, in the event that they would not be returning that evening.
Except B'Elanna, who decided not to take anything except a few medical supplies she needed for nursing. She hoped that leaving her possessions behind with Tom and the baby would somehow make it more likely she would return to them. They walked to the shuttle with her, and B'Elanna gave each of them a kiss goodbye.
"This could be the last time we see you for a long time," Tom said grimly.
"Don't say that," she said, forcing herself to sound confident. "I'll see you in a few hours."
"What if you're…"
Detained? "Don't even think about it," she said, unwilling to voice the word. "Anyway, it's Starfleet. I'm sure if anything happens, they'll let me have a visitation or at least contact you." She pushed her hair off her face, and the wind immediately blew it forward again. "I'll see you in a few hours."
In truth she was nervous about what lie ahead, but she knew they had been in much tougher situations before. She let Tom embrace her tightly, knowing that he was worried that he'd worked for so many years to put his life in order, only to have it to come apart again – the ultimate slap in the face. After a moment he let her go, and she looked deeply into his eyes, allowing their visual contact to say all the things she didn't have the time or energy to say at that particular moment.
He understood.
Nearby Chakotay and Seven were murmuring their own tender farewells. He squeezed her hand one last time before following B'Elanna into the shuttle. Tom took a step closer to Seven, and they waved until the shuttle hatch closed.
Harry hadn't told anyone about his conversation with Janeway, but he had called his parents to tell them he might be coming home that night. Mary Kim hadn't changed at all; she'd promised to make him apple pie and demanded a musical performance. It was at once comforting and maddening.
As they rode the shuttle to San Francisco, Harry let himself steal a glance at Tuvok, whose eyes were focused straight ahead. He wondered what his friend was thinking and trying not to feel at that particular moment. Harry felt butterflies in his stomach but also a sense of wonder and excitement at the possibilities on the horizon. But he wasn't a kid anymore. He sat up a little straighter and tried to look as unflappable as Tuvok.
Images of Neelix and Kes appeared on the viewscreen behind them, and the admirals craned their necks to look. They turned back to the small table in front of them at which Kathryn Janeway sat alone.
"Captain Janeway, can you discuss the nature of the involvement in the activities of Voyager of these two aliens?" Admiral Pendergast asked her.
Janeway was growing restless. She'd been seated in front of the four admirals for three hours, and thus far all she had done was repeat information from her logs. She launched into an explanation of who Neelix and Kes were and what they had contributed to the ship.
"At any time," Admiral Peabody asked, "did they have access to critical systems, such as weapons or propulsion?" Peabody was quite young for an admiral, and her blonde up-do was in stark contrast to the salt-and-pepper receding hairlines of the middle-aged gentlemen sitting around her. She had a reputation for being a firecracker, and Janeway had immediately noticed that all the particularly annoying questions were coming from her.
"Neelix served as a security officer from time to time, after he'd been on the ship a few years. He also trained in engineering."
"Captain Janeway," Pendergast continued, "you said that one of the key factors in your decision to destroy the Caretaker Array was the Prime Directive?"
"That's correct. I was worried about shifting the balance of power in that part of space by allowing the Kazon access to the Caretaker's technology."
"I'm sorry, Captain, but I don't quite understand. Did your concern for the Prime Directive not apply to shifting the balance of power in the Delta Quadrant by preferencing two species as members of your crew?" Peabody was pretending to look confused in order to ask snide questions, and the obvious ruse further annoyed Janeway.
"Can you rephrase the question?" Janeway asked with false politeness. Two can play this game.
"Did you or did you not have a more favorable relationship with a race called –" She consulted a padd in front of her – "the Talaxians because of the presence of Neelix on your ship?"
"We did. We were allies with the Talaxians, and we found them to be a peaceful species."
"Can you name one of the enemies of the Talaxians?" Peabody continued.
"We know that the Kazon attacked the Talaxians on more than one occasion."
"Did the Kazon also attack you?"
"Admiral Peabody," Admiral Markham, who had remained silent during the entire three hours, finally interrupted, "the history of Voyager's entanglement with the race known as the Kazon has been completely outlined in Captain Janeway's reports."
Thank god, Janeway thought. At least one of them is being reasonable enough to move this forward.
"Can you tell us the number of ships you were responsible for destroying as the captain of a Maquis ship?"
"I could only make an estimate," Chakotay admitted truthfully.
"Can you tell us the number of lives that were taken as a direct result of your command of the Val Jean?"
"I couldn't estimate that."
There was a little muted chatter as the panel discussed his response.
Captain Seaborn was the next to speak up. "Have you had any contact with the Maquis in the past seven years?"
"No."
"Mr. Chakotay, I remind you that you have taken an oath," Seaborn warned. "Were there or were there not members of your own Maquis cell aboard Voyager with you?"
"There were no Maquis on Voyager." Now the panel erupted into louder discussion. This was the response he and Kathryn had prepared, and it was truthful to them. Certainly there had been tensions between the two groups (Tuvok's "boot camp," for one) and at least one incidence of an attempted mutiny (pagh'tem'far B'tanay, he thought with some regret), but those were family disputes. To the outside world it was important to project unity. At the end of the day, they had eaten at the same dinner tables, worked on the same pieces of equipment, and saved each other's lives, not as Janeway's crew and Chakotay's crew working in tandem, but as the Voyager crew.
"Can you please restate your answer?" Admiral Cabot asked. He was prompting him to change it, Chakotay knew, but he wasn't going to.
"There were no Maquis on board Voyager. When the Val Jean was destroyed, we were integrated into Voyager's crew as Starfleet officers. Your original question was whether or not I have had any contact with the Maquis in the last seven years. The answer is no. I have only had contact with Starfleet officers and various alien species."
"I recommend we take a recess," Seaborn suggested. Chakotay could tell by his expression that they were not happy with his answers.